Masquerade
by bludonut
Summary: AU It's not her life anymore. It never was. She's just going through the motions... pretending to be someone else...can that be called life? Who will be the one to see behind her mirage of masks?
1. The prince who is not a prince

**\Title: **Masquerade

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**Chapter 1: **breakdown

**Author's Note**: Hey all readers I had a fun time writing this emo fic, with many thanks to my friend who wants to be acknowledged for doing the vetting for this story. So I hope you have fun reading it, with of course appropriate responses, haha.

**Disclaimer**: CLAMP owns ccs which is cool, but I own my tub of Ben and jerry's ice cream which is cooler!! Haha get it!! I know that was totally lame, but if you suffered trauma because of it, I can assure you the rest of the story is not that taxing on your 'lame jokes' radar.

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The breeze moved through the trees, and fanned across the faces of two young ladies talking excitedly. The wind lifted the tendrils of their hair, as they laughed in delighted tones, occasionally covering their blushing faces with the elegant fans imported from China.

It was getting boring, and the wind was contemplating about moving on, before it heard something interesting.

The girl in the blue dress, and heavy makeup said, 'Hey have you heard, the new heir of the Kinomoto kingdom is finally making an appearance after living in seclusion for seventeen years! Can you believe it, he's inviting everyone girl in the kingdom, it is obvious that there're looking for a bride for him. You want to take your chances there?'

The other girl who wore a cheap perfume, which seemed to clog up your sense of smell with its heavy flowery scent, answered 'Of course! There's no better chance. How does he look though? Is he…ugly?' She cringed slightly.

'The thought! Didn't you see the posters they put up? He's…very good looking…well, he's very pretty; he has a sort of grace, and charisma. You can just imagine him sweeping you off your feet with those brilliant green eyes… And I swear I haven't seen such a shade of auburn before, it looks so soft, his hair that is…he's every girl's perfect prince charming!' The first girl exclaimed.

'Ooooh, he sounds so dreamy… what's his name?'

'Touya Kinomoto.'

* * *

The wind carried this conversation back to the prince, as he stood on the balcony enjoying the afternoon breeze. A slight smile was playing across his lips, as he leaned his elbows upon the rail, and he closed his eyes, listening to the conversation that was in actual fact, being carried hundreds of miles to the palace.

He tilted his head back, and let the wind caress his auburn hair. As he recalled Windy back into the card again, the wind died down instantaneously. This was one of the few places he could actually be himself; it was his sanctuary from his responsibility.

The sunlit balcony was her refuge from being Touya. He was actually a She. She was Sakura Kinomoto, currently masquerading as her brother, who ran away from the palace when he was a kid with the chief mage's son, Yukito. There had been a great search for him of course, but only in the dead of the night. The happy citizens of the kingdom need not know of the crisis that involved their beloved prince going missing, or rather, had escaped from the palace.

The secret police were dispatched to bring the young prince back, and spies all over the countries were alerted, but to no avail. The only lead was that he was sighted along the coast of Shinko before he seemed to disappear altogether.

With Touya's disappearance, the kingdom was left without an heir, and seclusion was declared. The palace would live apart from the common people, and for seventeen years this was so. Though Fujitaka claimed it was to help the Nadeshiko recover from her deadly illness, and the child she was carrying was announced to have died, in actual fact the child did live; but it was unfortunately a girl when they needed a boy. Thus, she was trained into becoming Touya Kinomoto, and hence Sakura Kinomoto did not exist.

She was living someone else's life, while her brother ran off, leaving her to clean up the mess he created, saddling her with this responsibility even before she was born.

Damn him. Damn it all.

She hated him. She hated him for his absolute selfishness, for his reckless behavior, for his courage. Truly, she did. Yet sometimes in the middle of the night, when she was all alone in her bed, staring up at the dark ceiling, with a sense of being suspended in space, the inky darkness closing in ever so slowly on her...

She admired him, for his absolute selfishness, for his reckless behavior, for his courage. She could understand his desire to flee the palace, to be rid of the critical eyes in the palace that tracked your every move, evaluating your worth as heir. They were more binding than chains could ever be, but she had been taught how to wriggle out of chains, for with her flexible and lithe body, it was an easy trick to master. Yet chains could restrict your movement and though your imagination could fly over the sea, out of the chains; but those cold hard eyes, kept you there, killing you slowly, softly but surely.

She would have gone mad if not for the cards; they looked like an ordinary playing deck, but if you looked carefully, you would see a thin line running down the middle, and if you were smart, you would wonder why it was there. If you were perceptive enough, you would realize that the outside of the card could be peeled off like a sticker, revealing the ancient cards. These were cards of such power that many had been unable to wield it, and a prophecy of such darkness that many had been afraid to unleash it. However, Sakura didn't know that. They were her only friends in this crazy, lonely world.

She sighed, and wondered about the upcoming ball. It was held for the specific purpose of introducing Touya Kinomoto to the world, after their long period of seclusion. Many important rulers, and more importantly, the people behind the rulers would be coming, with all the ladies of the kingdom of course. That was an added feature, an incentive for the other princes to come and flirt with all the pretty ladies assembled there.

She had no interest in that.

Her role was to be the perfect prince. Charming, gentlemanly, confident, well-educated and well updated on the current affairs, be it fashion or politics.

She smiled bitterly. She would make a good actor someday, for she had fooled people for seventeen whole years, and she had played the role of Touya kinomoto to perfection.

And, she was, in fact, very, very tired.

She could feel her smile slipping from her face, her jaw muscles relaxing. Her face now reflected what she truly felt inside: despair and numbness. It was as if the afternoon sun darkened with her mood, as she slowly sank to her knees, a wave of exhaustion overwhelmed her.

It had been two days since she last slept, preparing for the ball, and making sure her attire was ready, as well as practising her swordplay and all the other stuff princes are supposed to be good at. Her mind was stuffed with all the latest news, what scandals had happened, which country was facing drought, as well as who was the man behind the spineless king of Hokkario.

She couldn't take it anymore.

She could feel her mask slipping, her façade falling to pieces.

In that hot and lonely afternoon, the princess masquerading as the prince sat down and hugged her legs to her chest feeling very alone. She began to cry, as she stuffed her fist into her mouth; she could feel her numbness slipping away, to be replaced by the heart wrenching pain of this moment. Hot silent tears trickled down her face, and the huge gulping sobs came and once again took away her pain, washed away by the tears.

It came again, like the waves, high tide or low tide; it did not matter, not anymore.

She was crying tears…tears that princesses don't cry.

Far off, she heard someone calling her name, she stood up slowly. The tears stopped, and she stepped back into the palace, returning to her reality. She was now a He.

He stopped in front of a mirror and brushed his hair tidily, there were no tears stains on his face, and it was as if he had never wept so brokenly a few seconds ago. A charming smile in place, he swept into the hall. The maids greeted him with a low bow, and he returned them with the empty courtier smile.

No one heard her crying inside. No one heard her heart breaking, and mending, breaking and mending, and breaking and mending.

They only saw her smile. Her beautiful smile that meant nothing, nothing at all.

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**Author's Note**: this first glorious first chapter has finally ended many thanks again to my sweetfriend for vetting it. 


	2. Numb

**Title: **Masquerade

**Chapter 2: **Numb

**Author's Note**: Okay, second chapter up, read or die… that sort of usual crap… did you know Read or Die is an actual manga…it's sort of freaky… so I'd advise you not to read it if you are used to fluffy things like CCS. LOVE and PEACE!!!! Now where did that come from?

**Disclaimer**: Yes, yes the usual… sounds like I'm ordering breakfast in the usual café.

**After lining up for ages…**

**Me**: Hello Mark, the usual (dead tone)

**Waiter** (Mark): Ok (in equally dead tone)

**Me**: Thanks. (On good days) Then trudges over to a table to get my caffeine high…

Right, after knowing my boring morning schedule,

Enjoy…

It was late at night, and as she leaned her head upon the bed rest, letting her mind numbing exhaustion take over her senses for a moment, she promised herself rest for only an instant, and massaged her throbbing temples. Her eyelids fluttered close briefly, long dark eyelashes brushing her eyes delicately, before she opened her sharp emerald eyes again and continued staring at the book before her, detailing palace etiquette.

Sitting in a hard back chair in the enormous excuse for a library did not improve her mood either, the place was too huge, too lonely, and too impressive as if it was trying to chase away the likes of her, a small petite female. With the book propped up in front of her, she corrected her posture to ensure her spine was straight without too much tension, hands relaxed, folded neatly into her lap, but soon gave up that tiring position, that whole countenance adopted was simply too tiring, besides no one came into the library, not much anyway.

She could allow herself just this tiny bit of break. Heaving another enormous sigh, she tried to focus on the book again. 'Rule number 457: Princes are to hold their hands out at a precise 45 degree angle when offering to ask for a dance from a princess. This should be coupled with Rule 123 from the '1001 Rules on Bowing' volume and Rule 324 from….' She couldn't absorb anymore information, stood up to stretch her cramped legs, and allowed the annoying tome to slide onto the floor and snap shut with a loud bang; noting with some satisfaction that several brittle pages were reduced to dust in the process.

Running a hand through her fine albeit short auburn hair, she felt her emotions from the afternoon threaten to overflow again. She had been occupying herself with work all day to take her thoughts off her unhappy reality. Fencing lessons in the late afternoon, followed by a light dinner and shower, before heading to the library to read up on palace etiquette till this late.

She felt the beginnings of bitter resentment bubble up inside her, why was she the only one to work so hard, though to be fair to the rest of the people involved in the ball, they were working hard too, but she knew she was pushing herself especially hard, and the age old annoyance and anger at her brother and forcing her to take over his place, and squashed it before it went out of control. Whenever her still missing presumed (99.9) dead brother was mentioned she would rant on and on about him and her strange not to mention awkward predicament, and eventually land herself in some sort of trouble due to her excessively grumpy mood.

She had to focus. This was no time for self pity. This was more than about her own selfish emotions, more than about her idiot brother, and her façade of seventeen years. It was about everyone in the kingdom. It would cause irreparable damage to the reputation of the kinomoto kingdom if a scandal of such enormity was revealed.

Tossing her head of auburn hair, she thought to herself sarcastically "if people knew I was a girl, and that the rightful heir had disappeared, why we would be _oh-so-famous_, what father always wanted anyway. Baka brother I never knew, I curse you to the deepest depths of hell I hope you're tortured as much as I am, no, more than I am, and you die a million, zillion gazillion horrible deaths over and over again." As you could now obviously see, she was never one for keeping things in anyway, a rant in time kept her sanity in check, giving herself a self-satisfied smile; she hoped her beloved brother could hear her, wherever he was, hopefully burning up delightfully in Hell.

It was thus that the prince/princess of the Kinomoto kingdom proceeded to depart from the unwelcoming halls of the library in a much better spirit when she had first stepped in.

They had to tread carefully, and act for the entire world like a normal sane royal family. Well, a bit of eccentricity was tolerated here and there, but overall they had to be blemish- free and impeccably perfect… on the outside at least. What went on the inside was another matter altogether.

Sakura slid down her bed, and stepped out of her room into the hallway, watching the shadows that the dim candlelight threw against the walls, it would be interesting she supposed, if she decided to call in sick, and not appear at the ball, but she knew that she would get a proper tongue lashing afterwards, besides, after all the effort that was put in to ensure its success, she simply could not disappoint them.

That had always been her weak point, she had too soft a heart, she should have said no when they were pushing her onto her brother's would-be path, she should have…but she didn't, she couldn't. Damn him.

She felt her anger boiling, like a bottle that could only hold so much grievances, pain and bitterness, and it was overflowing. The rant earlier was only the tip of the iceberg. She was on a roll today, she stopped for a moment in the middle of the hallway breathing deeply to let the anger drain out of her, this dangerous emotion could take over her and drive her out of control, she let her hot burning anger be replaced by ice it sharpened her senses, and made her goal clearer, but without her knowing, it chipped away, bit by bit at her once untainted heart.

Striding down the hallway, she sighed, she seemed to be doing that a lot, sighing, loosing control of her emotions was also rather unusual for her ice prince façade that would keep people at a distance, for fear they knew her as who she truly was.

It was a lonely life indeed, being a bloody prince of some bloody country. She suddenly remembered that her parents were hiring new guards for her. It would not be good for her to be assassinated during the ball they said, even though she could defend herself more than well enough. It was always better to be safe than sorry, they had lectured. She quickened her footsteps towards the study room, her soft leather boots barely making a sound as it moved across the gleaming polished surface of the floor, her face unreadable, as if it were carved from ice itself.

Knocking softly on the door, she waited for a few moments, before she heard her father's deep gruff voice inviting her in. Adjusting her clothes slightly, she stepped across the threshold, every inch a prince, albeit an extremely pretty and delicate looking one.

Her father's study was extremely simple, not what you would expect in a castle, but a simple room that meant business: plain white four walls and stacks of paperwork arranged neatly in intimidating towering piles, the table was made of a pleasant shade of oak, and was probably the only accessory in the room, stretching across the entire room, with only a little space at the sides as a walkway.

The only welcoming thing in the room was the plush armchair, stuffed so full that you seemed to sink into it and drown in its seat, though it was colored an annoying bright green and red with orange stripes down the sides. The contrast was almost frightening to the stark plainness of the room, but that was her father, he lived to shock.

Her father looked up from his paperwork before motioning her to sit in a hard straight-backed chair opposite his work desk. She greeted her father formally before sitting down.

'So, Touya, how are the preparations for the ball coming along?' He enquired; his deep dark eyes meeting her emerald ones.

She felt her father trying to look deeper under those pretty emerald eyes, try to read her like he did others, and she smiled coldly to herself. Her father would see nothing beyond its chilly, shiny exterior, after all, it was him who taught her how to bury her emotions under layers of numbness, and forget about them, so much that they might never have existed save for the occasional reminder, that was becoming more frequent.

'Fine, father.'

She sensed a change in his emotion, perhaps it was a break in his royal mask, or a change in his tone of voice.

She instantly became more alert, and caught a flash of emotion race past behind his eyes, before disappearing, she would've thought she had dreamt it, but she was wiser than that, she knew she had not, and she knew how to put a label to that emotion.

She had seen it many times in the eyes of those whom she had confronted, and defeated, cruelly, mercilessly.

She wasn't a gracious winner, who would smile and say it was a close fight, or that you had fought well.

_She_ would simply grace the unfortunate loser with a stare so icy and piercing, that the pain of that defeat would seem a thousand times worse from the contempt in that hard gaze.

It was what she had always been taught, there are only two types of people in this world, _losers_ and _winners_, you have to be part of the latter group of course, you can never fail. By the way, that emotion, it was called _fear_.

'I have assigned you the new mercenary I hired. They have been tried and tested, and are exceptionally well trained, it seems. They will be waiting for you outside your room. You are dismissed.' His father said evenly, having no trace of possessing whatsoever emotion he had displayed only seconds before.

'Thank you, father.' She replied, before rising stiffly, and leaving the room.

Her last glance of him was of him bending over the paperwork, with his forehead contracting into an intense frown of concentration on his face. Their conversations were always this short, this awkward, and she could not blame him for it.

Well, what exactly could you tell a man who had practically ruined your life as a girl?

Giggle with him on girls' nights out?

In fact that thought was so repulsive, even mentally that she had to repress a shudder of disgust. The exhaustion must be getting to her head. She. Needed. Sleep. Quickly.

**Author's Note: **Okay, this is the second chapter end, and I would love to know what you think of this story, though I honestly think it's a bit too emo, hey, I was emo when I wrote it, and on a sugar high after two blocks (bricks) of Cadbury chocolate when I edited it, so… it's a weird mishmash…heheheh….

Kudos to all who had reviewed, I wish you all a high metabolism that can burn away calories at the rate at which you eat chocolate. Now that would be heaven. Cos, I'm feeling darn guilty now. Sniffs.


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